


Damaged, But Not Broken

by NellyHarrison



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Death, F/M, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Olicity if you squint, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Assault, State vs. Queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 06:37:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2259654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NellyHarrison/pseuds/NellyHarrison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What don’t we see when the Count kidnaps Felicity and holds her hostage to lure Oliver to Queen Consolidated?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damaged, But Not Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep in mind the tags. I don't want anyone to be triggered. It's kind of a dark fic, but I hope you guys like it regardless.

Felicity really should have listened to Diggle, but she was afraid that if she didn't go, they'd never be able to stop the truck, and people would continue getting injected. With Oliver at his mother's trial and Diggle out of commission, it was up to her to buck up and go investigate. It seemed like an easy enough task: drive to the truck, find the Vertigo she knew should be inside, and get out before anyone caught her. She should have known that the Count wouldn't have been stupid enough to leave his 'patient zero' truck unprotected. Even if she had planned on that, she never would have expected the Count himself to be the one to catch her.

She wasn't sure what he had drugged her with. All she knew was that it wasn't Vertigo (thank God) and it made it easy for him to drag her to his car and bring her into the Queen Consolidated building without a struggle. She wasn't sure why he had chosen QC, but she was sure it wasn't an accident. She began coming back into herself when she was being stripped of her coat, the feel of his hands along her arms and back making her shiver in disgust. Then she was being strapped to the chair, her body still too sluggish for her to put up much of a fight. 

It didn't take much longer for her to fully sober up, the drug clearly short-lasting but effective. She looked around, her breath shaky as she saw the Count walking around the office, muttering to himself. Turning back and seeing her fully aware, he smirked and stalked towards her.

"Look who's awake. You know, beautiful, you really should learn to keep that pretty little nose of yours out of other people's business," he warned her, trailing his fingers up one arm. She squirmed to try to get away from his touch, but she could only go so far, and her fighting only seemed to amuse him further. "Now, now. Be a good little girl and maybe you'll make it out of here alive. Or perhaps I'll keep you instead. You reacted so beautifully to my lazy drug. I wonder how you'd look with Vertigo pumping through your veins." His fingers ran along her neck, her eyes slamming shut to try to block him out. "Maybe I could create something just for you. Something that makes your skin crawl and all of your inhibitions disappear. Something that makes you the perfect pet I bet you could be." Tears welled in her eyes at his words, sick images seeping through her mind despite her best efforts to shut them out. "So very beautiful," he whispered, brushing the back of his hand along the side of her face.

He crouched before her and grabbed her chin, causing her to cry out from the pain. "Look at me!" he demanded, shaking her chin a bit until she finally opened her eyes and looked up at him. A small smirk played on his lips as he moved his hands along her outer thighs towards her waist. "I could do such wonderful things to you. Make you feel like you could fly. Make you feel like your body was on fire. All with a few balanced chemicals. It's fascinating how—" He paused when his hand came into contact with something. Looking down at it, he pulled it from her skirt and lifted it. "Felicity Smoak. Queen Consolidated." His expression darkened as he looked back down at her. "Well, well. This just made things interesting."

He turned and stalked away, pulling out his phone and calling someone. From the way he was speaking, it seemed that the person on the phone was his superior, possibly the person who has been funneling him resources to continue his work. It made sense in a way. But who was rich enough and corrupt enough to support the dealings of a psychotic drug dealer?

Felicity stowed that information away for later when the Count came back towards her, suddenly grasping her hair and viciously tugging her head back to look at him, eliciting another shriek from her lips. "It seems that you're more than just an employee here, aren't you _Felicity_?" He spoke her name like it was a swear, a slight snarl in his voice that made her body shake with fear. "I wonder what your boss, the Arrow, will do when he finds out you're here."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she snapped back, finally finding her voice through the fear. "I don't work for the Arrow!"

"Don't lie to me!" he shouted at her, tugging her hair harder, sending pain shooting through her skull. "I have inside knowledge, my dear. I know that you help the Arrow with his little mission, and I know that Oliver Queen will want his sidekick back."

"Oliver has nothing to do with this. He's just my boss," she tried to convince him, but if he did somehow have the inside knowledge he claimed to have, it was probably a moot argument.

"Again with the _lies_!" he yelled, taking his other hand to grab her face, making her whimper in pain. "I know that Oliver is the Arrow, and I know that you work for both of them. I also know that he was the reason I got locked up. It's time that I get my revenge. I'm afraid our fun might be over sooner than I would have liked."

Letting go of her face and hair, he walked away, over to her jacket and pulled her phone out of the pocket. Twirling it in his hands, he went over to the desk, pulled out the scotch that was hidden there, and poured himself a glass. "Be a good girl and keep your mouth shut, got it?" he warned as he opened the phone and dialed the number he wanted to call.

While she couldn't hear Oliver's replies, she could only imagine his anger when he realized what had happened. She kept her eyes forward, trying to remain calm and quiet as the Count stalked towards her, taking a moment to run his hand along her arm like he had before, making her silence falter as she cried shakily. As he turned away, she tried to calm herself, taking quivering breaths as he grabbed her badge and swung it in front of her face like a hypnotizing pocketwatch. The anger seeped back into the man's voice as he tossed her badge aside and recollected the events prior to his incarceration.

"Ipso facto, Arrow," he finally said before the call seemed to end. She knew Oliver would be coming for her, and she hated that he had to come save her instead of being there for his mother. She cried softly, hating this feeling of weakness.

"Hush now, sweet Felicity," the Count crooned as he walked back towards her, tugging her hair back once more as he sneered down at her. "Your precious Oliver is coming to save you. It seems we have a bit more time to have fun before he gets here though. What do you say?" He moved around and leaned towards her, placing his hands on the back of her chair as he invaded her space. His head bowed down and he ran his nose along her collarbone, tremors rocking her body as she twisted and turned as much as she could being strapped to the chair. "You smell delightful. You know, being locked in a psych ward and then in jail truly deprives you of the wonders of life. How much I missed the sweet smells of women's perfume. Yours is simply heavenly."

"Please, just leave me alone," she pleaded, once again hating how pathetic she sounded, but knowing that trying to fight him would only cause her more harm.

"What's the fun in that?" he asked, one of his hands brushing along her side and across the side of her breast. Tears welled in her eyes and quickly rolled down her cheeks as he touched her. Simple touches, nothing as harsh as the way he had gripped her hair, but each brush of his hand along her felt like she was being burned. "So much I missed while being away. So much I would love to experience again. With you," he whispered, grabbing a fuller feel of her breast. She closed her eyes then, wishing herself away from this place, from this moment in time. She knew Oliver would be there soon, but she feared it wouldn't be soon enough.

The next few minutes passed in a blur, but the memory of every touch he placed on her body would be burned in her mind forever. She felt numb, and it was only the sight of Oliver on the Count's small security screen that sparked any life in her. "It seems our fun is over," the maniac spoke, a slight frown on his lips before he sat behind her and waited, running his fingers through her hair as she shook with fear and anxiety.

Oliver's eyes locked with hers as he moved closer, his fist clenched tightly around his bow. Even as the Count spoke, all she could focus on was Oliver. His eyes remained on hers for a few moments before he turned his attention to her kidnapper. Their conversation was stiff, and she could practically hear the restraint slipping in Oliver's voice. She felt Count Vertigo's hands return to her shoulders, her eyes slamming shut as his fingers dipped a bit lower on her chest. She just wanted this to be over. She wanted to be out of this psycho's grasp. She wanted to be safe again, even if she would never feel like she was.

At the mention of the Count's benefactor, she made another mental note to talk to Oliver about that. Clearly the person that was behind this had a connection to Oliver. Or possibly the Arrow.

All at once, there were gunshots, and she ducked her head as the loud _BANG BANG_ echoed in her ears. Oliver managed to get away, and soon she found her binds being broken and she was being pulled from the chair by her hair. She heard the telltale sound of an arrow being knocked and then saw the needle being placed against her neck in retaliation.

"Oliver, don't!" she cried out. She knew how important his new code was to him, how much it meant to him to honor Tommy's death by refusing to kill. "Not for me!"

"Quiet please, I'm threatening," the Count muttered, the needle just barely pricking her neck. "Lower your bow."

Her eyes darted over to Oliver, watching to see what he would do. She wouldn't blame him for making whatever decision he needed to in order to stop the Count without killing him, even if it meant being killed herself. She had gotten herself in this mess, and she didn't expect Oliver to get her out of it. But, being the good man that he was, he lowered his bow and dropped his arrow.

"Your problem is with me," he stated, his voice laced with emotion. Her heart ached for the struggle he was forced to go through due to her own mistake. "It's not with her."

There was a short pause before the Count replied, "Well then consider this your penalty for making me go to Plan B in the first place." His hand moved back to give him the momentum to plunge the needles into her neck, but they never came. In a flash, Oliver shot an arrow plunging into his chest, and she fell as the next two also met their mark. The Count fell back, a look of pure shock gracing his face before falling out the window and to the ground.

It was over. Her nightmare was over. But the crippling guilt of what her actions caused hit her as Oliver lowered his bow. She'd made him kill. She'd made him betray his promise to Tommy. He broke his own code just to save her. Looking down, she cried softly, not only for herself, but for Oliver.

As if on cue, he rushed to her, cupping her cheek as she looked up at him, whispering words of comfort. Noticing his own wound, she reached out to brush her fingers over the gunshot, but he wouldn't have it.

"It's nothing," he assured her, his soft smile eliciting one of her own. He had saved her, like he always promised he would.

The next hour or so went by in a rush. He quickly got her to his car and drove her to the Foundry, where Diggle was still healing. Despite how much she wished he wouldn't, he left soon after. She understood of course; he had left his mother's trial to come save her after all. With a soft smile to Diggle, she disappeared to the bathroom to take some time for herself.

The moment she entered the bathroom and closed the door, she collapsed against it, her hand covering her mouth as she finally allowed herself to truly cry. Flashes of memories of the Count's hands on her pierced through her mind like one of Oliver's arrows. It brought her to her knees as she silently sobbed, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She remained like that for quite some time, and only when she seemed to run out of tears did she force herself to calm down and stand back up. She walked over to the sink and looked at herself. Her hair was mussed from how he grabbed her, her scalp still throbbing from the rough treatment. Her makeup had run from her crying and there were two tiny pinpricks on her neck from the needles. But the worst of it all were the invisible marks of the places he had touched. The seared skin along her arms and neck and chest that no one would see. Only she would know exactly where he touched her.

Cleaning her makeup, she splashed her face with cold water in the hopes it would bring down the puffiness under her eyes. With one last look, she returned to the computer area and accepted the blanket Diggle offered with a soft smile. She sat at her computers, watching the newsfeed from Moira Queen's trial while sending emails through her work tablet regarding the QC Applied Science Division's vaccine for the Vertigo. When Felicity heard the news of Moira's acquittal, she had been surprised, but glad. Oliver deserved some small piece of happiness after what had just happened.

Soon enough, Oliver was joining them, and if she was surprised by the acquittal, she was flabbergasted by his reaction to it. She wasn't sure why he wouldn't be happy about it, but she definitely understood why he'd be shocked. He spoke to Diggle about how the older man was feeling, her eyes darting between the two during the exchange. She quickly filled them in on the vaccine, a small smile brushing her lips at his relieved expression. Diggle left soon after, with Oliver right behind him, but she called out his name to stop him. As he turned to look at her, she stumbled for the right words to say, only knowing that she had to say _something_.

"I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you," she started. "And... I'm sorry." She nearly laughed at his confused expression, and she would have when he asked what she was apologizing for, but the guilt was weighing down on her heart. "I got myself into trouble again and you killed him. You killed again and I am sorry that I was the one that put you in a position where you had to make that kind of choice." It took a lot to say all of that. A part of her was glad the Count was dead. After what he had done to her, she felt relieved to know he could never hurt her again. But the larger part of her, the less selfish part of her, knew that he was gone because of a sacrifice she forced Oliver to make.

"Felicity," he whispered. His hand reached over, and she was hesitant to take it, but unlike the Count, she knew she could trust Oliver. She took his hand and squeezed it, the comfort of having him there more than she could have anticipated. "He had you and he was going to hurt you. There was no choice to make."

Her eyes welled with tears at that, tears she didn't know she still had in her, and she smiled sadly up at him. With one more squeeze of their hands, he walked away, and she took a few moments to herself before heading home herself.

Walking into her house, she felt the fear seep back into her. "He's dead," she told herself, even as she grabbed the taser Diggle had given her and went through all of the rooms. "He can't hurt you anymore." Only when she'd made sure her house was empty did she begin to relax a bit. Sighing softly, she went to shower, scrubbing extra hard as scorching water beat down on her. By the time she left the shower, her skin was red and raw, but she felt significantly better than she had before. Putting on her longest and comfiest pajamas, she climbed into bed. It took a while, but she soon drifted off to sleep, only to have the first of the reoccurring nightmares revolving around the horrible experiences of that night. The nightmares were her burden to bare, and a reminder that while she'd been damaged, she hadn't been broken. She was a survivor, and she always would be.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't quite sure how to end this, but I think I did it as well as I could have. I did imply that Felicity continues to suffer from these nightmares, or at least did for a while, and that's due to a personal headcanon of mine.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading. I really like how this came out and I hope you did as well. Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!


End file.
